The Greatest Costume in the World
by OtherLuces
Summary: Craig is reluctantly going to Token's Halloween party because he's a good friend, but he plans to stay planted on the couch and people watch all night. Wait, did he just see someone in a Red Racer costume? Written for Crenny Week 2018 (Day One: Holiday) as prompted on tumblr. M for some sex talk (non-descriptive), implied sexual situations, language.


"Seriously, how fucking long does it take you guys to get ready?"

Craig shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He really didn't want to be going to this stupid Halloween party anyway, but he promised Token that he would be there and keep his complaining to a minimum. He was a good friend like that. He groaned and reached his hand underneath his costume to scratch at the skin of his abdomen.

"I fucking hate this. It's so itchy."

"Well, then buy a real fucking costume, asshole," Clyde replied from the bathroom.

"No." He pulled at the hem of his 'costume', which was in fact just an old orange sweatshirt that said ' _Fuck you, this is my costume'_ in glow in the dark paint. "But, uh…do you have an extra undershirt I could wear?"

"Yeah dude, there should be some in my top drawer in my room."

Craig slowly walked up the stairs to Clyde's room, put on said undershirt, and slowly returned downstairs. He saw Tweek finally emerge from the bathroom, decked out in a pretty detailed demon costume, tail and all.

"Wow Tweek, you look awesome!" he smiled.

"Thanks! I've been working on it for months."

He put a hand on his smaller friend's shoulder and sighed as he looked toward the bathroom door. "Hurry the fuck up, Clyde! We're already late!"

"We're not late, we're going to make an entrance." The bathroom light went dim and the door burst open. Clyde stepped out and spun around with his hands flared out at his side. His long faux fur coat billowed out around his legs. "So? How do I look?"

"Fuckin' stupid. Seriously? You're going as Macklemore?" Craig asked with one eyebrow raised.

"From the _Thrift Shop_ video!"

"That doesn't somehow make it better."

"You're just jealous of my swag, Craig." Clyde strode toward the front door, trying to act as cool as he could.

"Sure. That's gotta be it." Craig looked at Tweek knowingly and they silently laughed as the three friends finally headed toward Token's house.

* * *

Craig had set up shop on the couch in Token's living room, accepting drinks from his friends whenever they came by to check on him. It was nice and boring…or at least as boring as you could get at a fairly raucous Halloween party. He surveyed the room, taking in the costume line-up this year. There were a couple really good ones, but most of them fell into the 'sexy' category, and were simply being worn so that they could be taken off by the end of the night. He couldn't be bothered with those kinds of costumes. Mainly because they were usually designed with the intention that they be worn by women, so he had no reason to be interested anyway. Perhaps if there was a better selection of 'sexy' costumes for men other than just a loincloth packaged as 'sexy Tarzan' or a lab coat with tag that says 'Dr. Ben Dova' packaged as 'sexy douchebag', maybe Craig would give a shit. Craig took a swig from his plastic cup, sinking further into the couch.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a quick glimpse of red move through the crowd of sweaty, hormonal teens. He adjusted in his seat to get a better look. He swore that he'd seen a familiar looking costume, but he had to get another look to be sure. His eyes finally found their target. Over in the corner of the room stood someone in a Red Racer costume, helmet and all. He couldn't tell who was underneath the clothing because the helmet covered their entire head, but he still felt a flutter of excitement in his stomach. Screw all these so-called sexy costumes, no matter who was wearing this costume, it was sexy as fuck.

It was clear that the person wearing the outfit knew this as well. Their body language, the way they were carrying themselves as they moved from conversation to conversation. Craig lost all interest in watching anyone else. He kept his eyes fixed on this mysterious Red Racer, watching their every move. It was only after they bent over to pick up a pair of cat ears that had fallen off the head of a very drunk Heidi Turner did Craig realize how damn tight Red Racer's pants were…and how tight Red Racer's ass looked. Craig cleared his throat and took a sip of beer, looking around to make sure no one would notice while he adjusted himself in his pants. It was a good thing he was sitting down.

When he looked back up, he found Red Racer looking straight over at him. _Shit_. He quickly averted his eyes and took another sip of beer, feigning his usual coolness. _No no no, oh god no_. Red Racer was heading straight for him. He could feel his face radiating with embarrassed heat.

The mystery person stopped a few feet in front of Craig. His lips silently mouthed the words ' _who are you?_ '. His question was finally answered as the helmet was slowly pulled off to reveal messy blond hair, stark blue eyes, and a slightly gap-toothed grin.

"McCormick?"

"Tucker."

Craig subconsciously slid his tongue over his bottom lip. He wasn't entirely sure how to process this new information. It's not like he hadn't had sexual thoughts about Kenny in the past. He'd had sexual thoughts about most of his friends at one time or another. However, he'd never been put in a situation where those thoughts had the possibility to become reality.

"Hey," Kenny yelled over the music. "Do you mind if I take a seat?" The leather gloved hand gestured to the spot on the couch right next to Craig.

"Yeah, I guess," he muttered.

Craig felt the couch shift underneath the new weight on top of it. He was still flushed all over and he knew that Kenny would notice it immediately.

"Yeah, it is pretty warm in here, isn't it?" Kenny said, looking directly at Craig and placing the backs of his hands against his own cheeks.

And there it was.

"This costume is a lot warmer than it looks," he continued. "I gotta air out some."

Craig looked out of the corner of his eye and held back a groan as he watched Kenny slowly unzip the red and white pleather jacket that looked surprisingly close to the iconic Red Racer one. Kenny took the sides of the jacket in either hand and fanned them back and forth in an attempt to get some air circulating. He then leaned back into the cushions and rested both arms on the back of the couch, his fingertips barely touching the back of Craig's neck. A shiver ran up Craig's spine.

"So…uh…since when have you been a fan?" Craig pointed toward the helmet sitting on the other side of the couch.

Kenny rolled his head down and to the side, looking up at Craig through his eyelashes. His stare was hard and serious.

"I'm not."

They held each other's gaze for an uncomfortably long time. Craig finally broke the unspoken staring contest, his eyes choosing instead to look down into Kenny's open jacket. His bare flesh was pale and smooth, and his body was surprisingly muscular and toned for someone who probably didn't get much protein in their diet. Craig reflexively parted his lips, his mind becoming clouded with the thought of what Kenny's skin tasted like.

He suddenly realized he was staring and snapped his head forward. He could hear Kenny let out a quiet, throaty laugh. He felt Kenny slide over on the couch so that their thighs were pressed together.

"Did you know that Token still has his race car bed?" Kenny asked nonchalantly.

"I…I did not." Craig swallowed hard. He knew where this was headed, it could only be headed in one direction, but he still didn't quite believe it was happening.

"Well, he does. Still in good condition, too."

Kenny paused while a small group of girls walked by the couch. He glanced down and noticed Craig awkwardly shifting his hips around in a failed attempt to hide his arousal. Kenny grinned wickedly at how everything was falling into place. He leaned in closer to Craig, his lips not quite close enough to brush against Craig's earlobe.

"Have you ever fantasized about fucking Red Racer in a race car bed?"

Craig hadn't ever fantasized about that very specific situation…but now he was certainly fantasizing about fucking Kenny in a Red Racer costume while in a race car bed, and it was making him painfully hard. Craig let out a faint whimper that was not lost on Kenny.

"Thought so," he whispered. "I'm glad we're thinking the same thing."

Kenny abruptly stood up and grabbed the helmet, putting it back on his head. He placed his hands on his hips and nodded towards the stairs in the front of the room. Craig stood up and followed him to the bottom of the staircase. Kenny stopped and turned around, holding out his hand to Craig before they snuck upstairs together.

"Take my hand and don't let go." Craig felt a flutter in his stomach as Kenny began to recite Red Racer's famous catchphrase. "We're going for a ride."


End file.
